November 8.

Charlotte has reproved me for my excesses, with so much tenderness
and goodness! I have lately been in the habit of drinking more
wine than heretofore. “Don’t do it,” she said. “Think of Charlotte!"
“Think of you!” I answered; “need you bid me do so? Think of you
 I do not think of you: you are ever before my soul! This very
morning I sat on the spot where, a few days ago, you descended
from the carriage, and” She immediately changed the subject to
prevent me from pursuing it farther. My dear friend, my energies
are all prostrated: she can do with me what she pleases.